Earlier at the Johnston residence, I exposed Tanya.


    Now she had to be fuming.


    Tanya stood by her car, gripping the door like she was ready to either yank me out or take a swing.


    But then, out of nowhere, she dropped to her knees in front of my car.


    I did not see thating.


    I thought she might beg, but actually kneeling? That was a twist.


    This woman knew how to y every angle.


    Her kneeling didn’t faze me. I could handle it, especially since she had stolen my fiancé, But now


    that she was pregnant, her kneeling could hurt the baby. If anything happened, she’d probably find


    a way to make it my fault.


    I wasn’t about to let her stay like that.


    Still, I wasn’t dumb enough to get out and help. She was clearly using her pregnancy as a card to


    y, and if I showed any concern, she’d milk it for all it was worth.


    So, I just smirked and asked, mocking her, “What’s all this about?”


    “Keira, I’m begging you. Please, spare me. Spare my child. Let them have a chance,” she pleaded.


    It was 3:30, and the afternoon sun was


    zing, shining right on her face.


    Of course, she was using the baby as her excuse. Desmond’s unborn kid had be her shield.


    But I wasn’t falling for it. I stayed cool and said, “What exactly did I do to you that you need me to


    ‘spare‘ you?”


    Tanya’s lips trembled. “I admit it was wrong to steal Jace from you. But I just wanted a better life.


    You can’t me me for trying to move up in the world. I don’t think I was wrong.”


    Wow.


    Belonging ? N?velDram/a.Org.


    cuse


    What a neat little excuse for screwing me over.


    What a convenient way to justify it all.


    I shot her a cold nce. “You step on people to get what you want, and that’s supposed to be okay?


    So why are you on your knees now?”


    “We’re different,” she said, ignoring my jab. “Even though the Johnston family fostered you, they


    treat you like one of their own. Whether you’re with Jace or not, you still have their love and a good


    life. But me? I’ve been poor too long.” She kept up her sob story, not–so–subtly reminding me I was


    just a foster kid.


    They say ying the victim has levels, and she’s definitely a pro.


    She would manage to sh her ws when you least expected it–just a little scratch, but enough to


    leave a mark.


    Her logic wasughable. “So, being poor gives you a free pass to act like this? Should we be giving


    out medals to bank robbers now?”


    The sarcasm was thick, but she didn’t flinch.


    By the time she dropped to her knees, Tanya must’ve steeled herself for any humiliation I could dish


    out. I had to give her credit–this woman was as persistent as she was maniptive.


    “My mom’s had three strokes, and now she’s paralyzed My dad had to quit work to take care of her.


    And my brother, well, you’ve seen what he’s like. The whole burden’s on me. No matter how hard I


    worked, it was never enough.” Tanya dove into her sob story, painting herself as the family martyr.


    I’ll admit, I didn’t expect that. I hadn’t known her family situation was this bad.


    Given how entitled Brad acted, I figured they weren’t rich, but I didn’t think they were this bad off.


    “Desmond’s been the one helping me all these years. His parents? They made my life hell, and it


    stressed him out. He picked up side gigs for extra cash, and Jace helped him out a lot with that. Of


    course, he was helping me too.”


    As she talked, an image of Desmond shed in my mind–always smiling, calm, and steady, the kind


    of guy who brought a sense of peace just by being there.